


Wrath

by Florayna



Series: Farcry 5's (better) Good Ending [1]
Category: Far Cry 5
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-05
Updated: 2018-04-05
Packaged: 2019-04-19 00:26:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14225118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Florayna/pseuds/Florayna
Summary: What if the ending was actually Rook's Bliss induced nightmare?"John fucking Seed was right about precisely one thing."





	Wrath

“I am your father, and you are my child.”

 

 

 

_Wrath._

 

John fucking Seed was right about precisely one thing.

 

Rook pulled so hard on the cuffs she was almost surprised the chain links didn’t outright snap. She kept the pressure on. There was no way it ended like this, subdued by a madman prophet and a pair of god damned _handcuffs_. As she grunted and gasped for air, eyes blurring, burning as her arms did, Rook swore she could almost feel the metal bar giving way. Going soft.

 

It had almost stopped resisting.

 

She kept the pressure on.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Hudson looked to her right, just in time to see Pratt sliding a magazine into his pistol. He nodded to her, once, eyes somehow wild and focused. Kind of like a scrawny, pissed off wolf.

 

The bliss that Joseph spilled had taken an hour to fade, but most of that time was spent by the three of them helping Rook’s associates out of their drugged up haze. It was almost pitiful, how lost they were when the Father dragged Rook into his church and shut the doors to them. Easily coaxed to release their weapons, to lie down away from the noxious smoke and let their senses return to them. Whitehorse was tending to them now. But not his deputies.

 

They were kicking the fucking doors to the Church down, hunting justice for what the Seed family wrought over them.

 

Torture. Beating them, berating them until they were broken. Just meat. Bait to be dangled off a hook, leverage with which the Seeds could control Rook. It was time to wipe the last of those sons of bitches off the face of the earth.

 

But once again; Rook beat ‘em to it.

 

There she was on the far end of the room, back against the pedestal, eyes cloudy and unblinking. The Bliss. The deputies paused, watching their saviour shudder and shake, tear streaked cheeks tense and jaw taut. She had the ends of Joseph’s snapped rosary wrapped around her palms, rough fabric digging into her skin.

 

And the man himself in her lap.

 

He was already dead. But the cord remained tight around his neck, like Rook was afraid he’d rise. Like the moment she released his body the devil would draw breath again.

 

She kept the pressure on.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Going to be writing some Rook/Hudson stuff too into this series. But that's self indulgent as I just don't think Rook'll be handling everything that happened so well on her own.


End file.
